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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208355">drunk on your face</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald'>gothyringwald</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Crushes, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Slash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:28:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy shows up drunk in Steve's backyard in the middle of the night with something very important to tell him.</p>
<p>(Originally posted on Tumblr in April 2018)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/990363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>drunk on your face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Slowly working to post my remaining tumblr fic on AO3! This was written for the prompt 'I just want to let you know you're beautiful' or something like that</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Steve is already wide awake when he hears a clatter at his window at some ungodly hour. It’s probably just the wind, he tells himself, and rolls over. Moments later, the sound comes again. Probably not the wind, then. He sighs and throws the covers off, rolling out of bed and shuffling over to his window. There is a familiar figure standing in his backyard, by the swimming pool. Steve rubs a hand over his face and opens his window, letting in a gust of icy air.</p>
<p class="western">‘Billy?’</p>
<p class="western">Billy whips around, stumbling slightly. ‘Harrington!’ he says, far too chipper for 3am. And far too loud when Steve’s parents are asleep across the hall.</p>
<p class="western">‘Keep it down,’ Steve says, making a shushing motion with his hands. ‘Wait there,’ he adds, knowing that Billy probably won’t go home if he tells him to. It’s not the first time Billy has turned up in his backyard at an obscene hour. Usually drunk. Sometimes not. It’s the nights when he’s not drunk that worry Steve the most.</p>
<p class="western">‘What are you doing here?’ Steve says, hopping from foot to foot. It’s cold. He should’ve put shoes on. ‘Is everything OK?’</p>
<p class="western">‘Peachy,’ Billy says, eyes glassy in the moonlight and a dopey smile on his face. Definitely drunk, Steve thinks. And, too tired to stop the thought like he usually would, stupidly gorgeous. As always.</p>
<p class="western">‘Why are you here?</p>
<p class="western">‘I have to tell you something.’</p>
<p class="western">‘It couldn’t wait?’</p>
<p class="western">Billy shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else.</p>
<p class="western">‘OK. Well. What did you want to tell me?’</p>
<p class="western">Billy looks around, then leans in—sways is more like it—and whispers, ‘I think you’re beautiful.’</p>
<p class="western">Steve’s eyes go wide and he blushes. His heart thuds. ‘Oh wow. You’re really drunk.’ He forces out a laugh.</p>
<p class="western">‘Drunk on your face,’ Billy says with a pointed raise of his brows.</p>
<p class="western">Steve ignores him. ‘And cheap whisky,’ he says, grabbing the bottle that nearly slips from Billy’s grasp. Steve gets a whiff of Billy’s breath. ‘Jesus. You smell like a distillery.’</p>
<p class="western">‘That’s a big word for you, pretty boy.’</p>
<p class="western">‘And we’re back to the insults.’ Steve sets the bottle down, then grabs Billy’s arm and throws it around his shoulder. Billy could probably walk without Steve’s help but he’s less likely to trip and wake Steve’s parents this way. And, if Steve relishes the chance to have his arm around Billy, no one else needs to know.‘Come on,’ he says, pulling Billy toward the house.</p>
<p class="western">Billy leans heavily on Steve, dragging his feet. ‘I don’t really mean it, y’know.’</p>
<p class="western">‘Mean what?’</p>
<p class="western">Billy waves his arm nearly toppling them both over. ‘The insults.’</p>
<p class="western">‘OK.’</p>
<p class="western">‘It’s how I show I love you,’ Billy says in a confidential tone.</p>
<p class="western">Steve is certain his heart stops. He nearly drops Billy. ‘<em>What</em>?’ Billy is drunk. He doesn’t mean...he couldn’t possibly mean...could he?</p>
<p class="western">But Billy only says, ‘You are kinda dumb, though. It’s cute.’</p>
<p class="western">‘Uh, thanks?’</p>
<p class="western">‘You smell good.’ Billy presses his face into Steve’s neck. His breath is warm and his nose brushes over the sensitive spot behind Steve’s ear.</p>
<p class="western">‘Fuck,’ Steve says. He swallows thickly. ‘Just...be quiet until we get upstairs.’</p>
<p class="western">‘So, you’re saying I can make noise when we get to your room?’ Billy asks, actually waggling his eyebrows.</p>
<p class="western">‘Oh my <em>god.</em> Just shut up. My parents are asleep.’</p>
<p class="western">Billy nods sagely and puts his finger over his lips. Miraculously, he stays quiet until they make it to almost all the way to Steve’s room without incident. But then he <em>nuzzles </em>Steve (<em>again)</em> and Steve flails, knocking into the hall stand, sending a vase careening. Admittedly, not his finest moment. But the vase, thankfully, doesn’t break. It does, however, wake Steve’s mother who comes out to see what the commotion was.</p>
<p class="western">Steve quickly shoves Billy into his own room and shuts the door. He hears a soft thud and a dull groan from the other side and then looks over to see his mother squinting at him from across the hall.</p>
<p class="western">‘Steven?’ She has a sleep mask pushed back over her permed hair; her silk nightgown is creased.</p>
<p class="western">‘Yes?’</p>
<p class="western">‘What was that noise?’</p>
<p class="western">‘I was getting a glass of water.’</p>
<p class="western">His mother frowns. ‘I thought I heard a crash.’</p>
<p class="western">‘I tripped?’</p>
<p class="western">‘Well, be more careful. Your father has to be up early.’</p>
<p class="western">‘Sure, mom. Sorry,’ Steve says as his mother turns and shuts the door behind her.</p>
<p class="western">He lets out a breath and goes into his room where he finds Billy sprawled on the floor rubbing the back of his head.</p>
<p class="western">‘You dropped me,’ Billy says, accusingly. Steve thinks he might be pouting which is not remotely cute at all.</p>
<p class="western">‘Uh, sorry,’ he says, moving to help Billy back up.</p>
<p class="western">‘Ugh.’</p>
<p class="western">‘Let’s get you to bed.’</p>
<p class="western">Steve waits for the inevitable innuendo but Billy just grunts. Maybe he has a concussion, Steve thinks, before he drops Billy unceremoniously onto the bed. He pulls off his heavy boots, with little help, and tries to ignore the way his stomach swoops at the sight of Billy in his bed.</p>
<p class="western">Steve rests his hands on his hips. ‘What am I going to do with you?’</p>
<p class="western">‘You could kiss me,’ Billy says, eyes closed, arms resting above his head.</p>
<p class="western">Steve sighs long suffering but his stomach flutters and he finds himself saying, ‘In the morning. Maybe.’ If Billy remembers any of this, Steve thinks. He gets in the other side of the bed, too tired to feel overly awkward about sleeping beside Billy or to wonder if Billy even meant anything he said. ‘But if you throw up in my bed: no kissing. Deal?’</p>
<p class="western">Billy just snores in answer, so Steve flops back and closes his eyes. Within moments he’s sleeping more deeply than he has in a long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I've got about 7 or so more little ficlets I've never posted here but I don't like posting too much at once or I get anxious (I'm also trying to get over my anxiety over posting shorter fics on AO3 because, like, it's what the site's for! It's an archive! And short fics are great!) and also it's tiring haha</p>
<p>Anyway, the original post for <a href="https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/172890885190/35-for-harringrove">this fic is here</a> :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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